


Nagron’s first mini-spat, with Nasir/Chadara friendship

by betterrecieved



Category: Spartacus: Vengeance
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-14
Updated: 2013-03-14
Packaged: 2017-12-05 07:13:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/720288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/betterrecieved/pseuds/betterrecieved
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set just before and just after Chadara’s death.  Angsty fluff.  I mean holy crap is this fluffy.  </p><p>Unbeta'd, please excuse any mistakes!  </p><p>Concrit always welcome!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nagron’s first mini-spat, with Nasir/Chadara friendship

Nasir, standing outside temple with Naevia, notices Chadara staring at him with expression of reproachful anger.

He goes to her, concerned, but at his questioning, Chadara laughs so bitterly that Nasir is frightened for her sanity.

‘Do not allow fleeting concern for myself to turn you from new path,’ Chadara tells him, cutting scathing glance toward Naevia.

‘Chadara, I stand puzzled by this new manner of yours.’ Nasir’s eyes fill. They have been friends since childhood, yet with freedom comes chasm between them.

‘Dominus favored you,’ Chadara spits. ‘And now respected lieutenant would also suspend your beauty in amber.’

‘What talk is this? I have given you no cause for offense, Chadara!’ Chadara is already walking away, and Nasir grasps her elbow to hold her in place.

‘You offend no one! ’ Chadara slaps away his hand, sidling toward nearby riotous cluster of men. ‘It is your gift.’

Over next days, Chadara relents in her coldness, but Nasir cannot cease thinking of words spoken in anger.

*

Nasir pushes away Agron’s coddling hands when training injuries mar soft skin, though he would gladly sink into comforting touch.

He feels that even Spartacus, most fair-minded of men, treats him like daughter: during training Spartacus holds back with everyone, yet manner towards Nasir is shade more gentle than with men less fair of face.

He becomes uncomfortably conscious of strange rebel men sighing after him, though thankfully none approach him.

Despite ostensible experience, Nasir does not truly know ways of men. It is true that he has been coddled; his dominus intended him to remain pretty little doll, untouched by other men. A decorative thing standing motionless with hard cock and blank face as careless hands and mouth made exploration of body.

Were he able to get Chadara alone, he would tell her that he would trade youth and beauty for one more moment with older brother whose name cruelly eludes him.

As it stands Chadara frequents dark corners, with rough men who leave her company without backward glance. Nasir can no longer look her in face, and seeks out instead simple comforting sunshine of Agron’s presence.

Chadara dies bringing dishonor upon herself, sowing suspicion among rebels, and despite her harsh words, Nasir alone mourns her.

*

 In out of way alcove Agron has laid down two piles of bedding, hung curtain for privacy. The smaller pallet is for Nasir, who despite shamefulness of desire to be held, creeps into Agron’s bed most nights to tug at Agron’s heavy arms, rearranging them to encircle his body. Nasir tells himself evenings are cool here, that Agron serves only as snoring furnace warming Nasir through to marrow.

Head pillowed upon Agron’s chest, in safety of total darkness, Nasir gives voice to thoughts.

‘Agron, do you think me attractive?’

‘Yes,’ Agron replies simply, arms tightening. ‘Have I committed unwitting act, making you doubt attraction?’

‘No.’

Agron kisses top of Nasir’s head, and Nasir turns slightly to press kiss to Agron’s chest.

‘Agron?’

‘Yes?’

‘Would you desire me still if in battle I were rendered disfigured?’

Agron stiffens.

‘You will not be injured so again while I yet draw breath.’ And Agron’s fingers stroke Nasir’s nearly-healed scar.

‘You mistake meaning,’ Nasir assures hurriedly.

‘Then speak more clearly,’ Agron growls.

‘Apologies.’

Nasir breathes him in, secretly, and the man smells like loyalty must smell, like love has been baked into his skin.

‘Agron?’

‘Yes?’

‘I meant - would you love me if my looks were those of more…hardened man?’

‘Yes. Though perhaps I again misunderstand meaning?’

‘No, my words possess simple enough intent.’ Nasir strokes hard muscle of Agron’s bicep and for a moment is satisfied.

‘Yet you did not pursue man of weathered features.’ Nasir cannot stop cursed mouth from spilling forth childish words.

Agron sighs. ‘I will not have us speak in fruitless circles, with motivations hidden.’

‘So you do not deny statement.’

Agron’s arms withdraw, loving embrace taken away.

‘Your beauty shone like beacon to mind occupied with death. I admit, you would have gone unnoticed otherwise.’

‘Oh,’ Nasir says. ‘I see.’ Nasir sits up, breathing hard, eyes tightly shut. He will not further prove Chadara’s point by crying.

But big, warm thumbs brush tears away. ‘Beauty made me take second look. But your fierceness!’

Agron plants kiss to Nasir’s forehead. ‘Your integrity despite torn loyalties.’

A kiss to Nasir’s cheekbone. ‘Your spirit.’

Agron presses their lips together and Nasir moans when Agron pulls away.

‘These are what I treasure in you.’

‘Agron, Agron.’ Nasir can only whisper Agron’s name like fevered incantation. ‘Agron!’

‘I know,’ says his beautiful, astonishing new place in this world.


End file.
